


this heart of stone

by notthelasttime



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Hidden Feelings, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime
Summary: They were friends, they would keep being friends.Just friends.He could do this, see Noct to Altissia, see him wed without rocking the boat, withoutmaking things awkward. He said it wouldn't be a problem. He wouldn't want what he couldn't have, not when they'd had an agreement, not when said it was fine, of course it was fine, they were friends first, weren't they?Prompto was always a liar.





	1. Chapter 1

He could do this.

The Insomnia skyline, glinting like a fractured mirror in the morning sun, splintered and pointing straight up into the sky, like a giant's glass teeth. A glaring reflection in the side view mirror, shrinking slowly as Prompto watched, face half-hidden in the crook of his arm where it rested against the door.

He could do this. 

Top down, tank full, canned coffee already sitting open in the cup holder. Clear skies, temperate air, the first smell of life after a cold, dead winter. The kind of warm spring weather that made you think nothing was wrong in the world. Maybe there wasn't, not truly, not for their party of four, at least, but doubts always had a way of hiding in the back of Prompto's head. Back in his blind spot where he couldn't see them, not clearly, just feel them lurking like shadows that he couldn't get a grasp on. Not right up until it was too late and they were sinking their claws in deep. Too late and suddenly everything was shit while you stood there thinking  _it was fine, everything was just fine, I had it all under control_.

No, not today. He wasn't going to go down that road today.

He said it wouldn't be a problem and he meant it.

In the back seat Noct was staring at the scenery, blank look on his face like maybe he wasn't actually seeing any of it. Introspective instead of sleepy when he thought no one was looking. It couldn't have been easy, having so much of your own life already planned for you, inheriting a war and the power to try and fight it, a death toll, an army, a hundred thousand people looking at you like you were something more than a man. But this was something different, a happy choice, a good thing, a lovely bride to be, one he knew and and cared for. Prompto had to wonder if having happy choices made for you didn't just sour them a little. Sometimes getting what you wanted wasn't always what it seemed, not when it happened under the wrong circumstances, something _happy_ on the surface that was rotting down deep. Two sides of it, the shining surface of want, and the underside of all the things you _didn't_ want that still came along with it. Maybe Prompto knew something about that after all.

It came down to choice. Didn't Prompto have a choice, wasn't that why he was here? But some choices weren't yours to make and sometimes you had to bite your tongue for the sake of someone else. What would make them happy. Maybe less of a choice, something more of an agreement. An agreement between two adults, one that he meant to keep civil, one he wouldn't dare make the other feel bad about. Not when he agreed it was all for the best.

He could do this. He said it wouldn't be a problem and he meant it.

Ignis, next to him, eyes resolutely set to the road, hands at 10 and 2. Proper. Perfect. Focused and beautiful and oblivious every time Prompto snuck a secret look. He'd have to be careful. Ignis was too smart to let him get away with it for long. A profile cut with the little ridge in his nose, the slight part of his lip as he let out a sigh when Gladio was already asking how far they had to go. 

They were friends, they would keep being friends. 

Just friends.

He could do this, see Noct to Altissia, see him wed without rocking the boat, without _making things awkward_. He said it wouldn't be a problem. He wouldn't want what he couldn't have, not when they'd had an agreement, not when said it was fine, of course it was fine, they were friends, weren't they?

Prompto was always a liar. 

 

 

 

**New Year's Eve**

 

Prompto was drunk.

Gleefully, thoroughly drunk, in the kind of way that made him feel just a little bit floaty and pleasantly warm. Warm and safe, he felt safe here. Noct's apartment was cozy, confetti and streamers, balloons trapped by the ceiling. Excessive, considering that there were only four of them, and he wasn't sure if Noct and Gladio had insisted on it, part genuine, part joke, or if Ignis had just done it himself with no need to be told what they secretly wanted. But it was Ignis that would be cleaning it up, just like it was Ignis that had made all the food littering the tables, bite sized snacks that may as well have come from the Royal kitchens they were so good, and more of it than they would be able finish. Ignis sitting side by side with him now, so close their shoulders touched. 

Gladio was in charge of the booze- which instead of lightening Ignis's workload had probably only added to his stress, considering Gladio walked in toting a bag full of bottles and more than enough to give them all alcohol poisoning. 

"Come on Iggy, it's New Year's," he'd said when he caught Ignis giving him the eye, leaving the last part of the sentence unspoken, but dangling in the air nonetheless- _lighten up_. 

And lighten up he did. It was hard not to when Gladio was the one pouring the drinks. He didn't know if Iggy was drunk, he was still too composed to tell, but he was relaxed at least, shoulders not so stiff and the top buttons of his shirt undone. Prompto was glad for it, glad to see him relaxing a bit, glad he wasn't tucked away in the kitchen and keeping to himself like he sometimes did. Warmth spread through him faster than alcohol when Ignis had chosen to sit next to him.

Prompto maybe had a tiny little insignificant crush.

It evolved in the way crushes only could when the object of your affection is everything you are not.

Competent seemed like an understatement. How he could go nonstop, from Royal duties and all the things that Noct personally couldn't (or wouldn't) attend to, spend his free time cooking gourmet meals and making sure everyone else's life wasn't a trainwreck. He was kind, but a quiet kind, maybe abrasive around the edges at times when he was all business, but that almost made Prompto like him more because it wasn't fake. It was just him, genuine. He could say more in 3 words than Prompto could say in a thousand, and if Prompto was feeling honest he might have to admit that this had gone beyond a crush. A crush was what he had when he was 16 and still to shy to properly introduce himself to the man that hovered like Noct's shadow. This was something spiraling out of hand, a weed growing rampant in a garden, one he couldn't kill.

"The countdown's starting!" Gladio yelled, unnecessarily loud as he lunged for the remote and turned up the volume on the TV. The camera panned over the throngs of people suffering the cold outside, spilling out onto the streets in front of the Citadel. Maybe they were hoping to catch a glimpse of the King. There was always a Royal party, one Noctis had somehow gotten out of going to this year. That was most likely Ignis's doing as well.

10... 9... 8... 7...

"Princess get up, you're going to miss it." Noct was passed out on the loveseat, Gladio shaking his shoulder and poking his face doing nothing to wake him. 

6... 5... 4...

Prompto smiled, smiled at Gladio, drunk and loud, smiled at Noct even if he couldn't see it, in his predictable lethargic habits, and he turned his head to smile at Ignis, but Ignis wasn't looking at him and then he stood up.

3... 2... 1

" _Happy New Year!_ "

"Cheers!"

"We should do shots."

"Absolutely _not_."

People were shown cheering on screen, silver and gold confetti raining down on them, couples turning towards each other to kiss.

Noctis sighed and turned around in his sleep, Gladio's phone started ringing.

"Hold on," he said, checking the caller ID, and a high pitched squeal of _happy new year Gladdy!_ could be heard even over the noise of the room. 

"it's Iris," he said, like that had needed any sort of explanation, and Gladio left to shut himself behind the door of the spare bedroom, cutting himself off from the noise.

"Happy New Year, Prompto."

Ignis was standing over him wearing a soft smile and Prompto looked up, blinked, slowly smiled back. He opened his mouth to speak and was cut off by a flash, a bang. Seconds later the noise echoed on the TV, a trailing shot of the Citadel illuminated with lights, and fireworks raining from the black sky overhead. 

"Come on," Ignis said, gesturing with his head as he walked towards the expansive windows of Noct's apartment. Prompto grabbed the open bottle of champaign before he followed. 

In the hidden space between the back of the couch and the large glass windows, they settled in, blocked enough from the dim light in the room so that they could see past the glare and into the night. They weren't so far from the Citadel, and high enough in the sky that they could watch the suspended fireworks with a view unimpeded. They were sitting close again, thighs touching, and when Prompto moved to take a sip out of the bottle their arms brushed, and Ignis didn't twitch away. He took another drink before offering to Ignis, who accepted. He didn't take his eyes off the fireworks while he drank. Prompto watched the sparks fly in the reflection on his glasses, duplicated, mirrored, resized. 

Prompto had a gift for always saying too much.

"Hey," he said when Ignis passed the bottle back, "this was fun. Tonight, I mean."

"Indeed," his gaze flickered to Prompto, then back out the window.

"I mean I'm glad that you actually got to hang out tonight, you know?"

Eyes back on him now, and that smile was back, but he would lose it again soon, lose that look and Ignis's attention would be gone. In that moment there was nothing Prompto wanted less. 

"Hey, uh," leaning closer now and too drunk to know he was about to do something stupid, just desperate for attention and craving to be close. "You know neither of us got a New Year's kiss." He waited a moment, for Ignis to react, for him to say something or pull away and when he didn't Prompto leaned in close, pressed their mouths together. 

It was maybe a little sloppy, an inebriated lip lock, but Ignis didn't pull away, but rather leaned in, tilted his head to keep their noses from colliding. He was warm, soft and gentle lips parting. When Prompto pulled back he wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming, feeling like everything was unreal. Maybe later he would be embarrassed, he could panic and wonder what Ignis thought of him now, but for the moment...

"Hey Iggy," he said, whispering and still leaning close, "you ever want to mess around?"

Ignis's face didn't change, just the slight raise of his eyebrows, and something under the surface, nearly imperceptible. He was always so fucking hard to read, but it was just enough to make Prompto regret saying it, no matter how much he may have wanted it.

"I uh, I mean like... if you want. Just for fun. Like, as friends? No pressure or anything." He laughed, half stuck in his throat. The full stress of it could set in when he was sober. He took another drink.

A door opened, a loud bang popping the bubble of their false solitude as the handle hit the wall, and Gladio said his goodbyes to his sister. They both jumped, suddenly space was back between them like they were afraid of being caught. It didn't matter that they were hidden from view. Ignis cleared his throat, and a few moments later he stood and climbed back over the couch to talk to Gladio, ask him what Iris had to say. Prompto wrapped his arms around his legs, set his chin on his knees and watched the fireworks continue to explode in the sky. 

They were all drunk. His mouth running away from him again didn't have to be a big deal where alcohol was involved, and with any luck Ignis would forget his clumsy proposal, or ignore it, pretend it didn't happen. Ignis was that kind of guy, one who would pretend he didn't see when you did something to embarrass yourself, politely look away and act like he'd been cleaning his glasses. 

Prompto had a kiss imprinted on his memory, something to relive in his mind. He could try and let everything else fade. Close-lipped repression had always been a talent of his. He had a kiss. He had a kiss from Ignis. Everything else was irrelevant.

Prompto didn't think Ignis would ever actually take him up on his offer anyway.

 

 

 

**May 11th**

 

Ignis's office seemed to Prompto like a sacred space, something best kept off limits, where secrets were held. 

Noct would have laughed at him if he knew, saying something like _my training schedule is hardly something sacred_. The only time he'd been around was with Noct, on the rare occasion when Ignis had make him come by in person- _Royal documents won't sign themselves Noctis,_ or else _, I replaced the button on your jacket and you'll need it before I have a chance to stop by_. At times like these Prompto was dragged along, standing resolutely in the doorway of Ignis's private space, an onlooker peeking in, trying not to disrupt or get in the way. Perhaps his presence, the clumsiness, his common blood, would ruin it, perhaps the Gods, all-seeing all-knowing, would know he didn't belong here, strike him down on the spot.

This was the first time he'd been called inside. 

Ignis with his head down, phone buzzing, looking harried. The cleanliness of his office hadn't suffered, Ignis was far too particular for that, but Prompto could still see it, the overflowing files stacked high on his desk, the trash can full of to-go coffee cups and cans of ebony. It made him edgy, like Prompto was the one swamped with work instead. He rapped his knuckles on the open door.

Ignis's head shot up, "Prompto, come in. Close the door behind you, please."

Not good. Maybe this was all just perfunctory stuff, prerequisites for traveling with Noct, the bomb that had been dropped on them not 24 hours earlier. Like a job interview, maybe they'd just have a chat about what was expected of him now that he was representing the Crown, or Ignis had to make sure he'd had all of his vaccines, make a photocopy of his social security card. Too professional for a personal call. It had to be. He walked forward to the desk and Ignis stood up.

"I was hoping to talk with you about our...arrangement. Before we left the city."

If Prompto could have wiped his palms on his pants without being obvious he would have, would have liked to swallow before speaking but was afraid of a click in his throat so he did neither, feigned casualness, like he always did before he said, "Yeah, of course. What's up?"

"I think it's best if we stop."

Like a door slammed in his face. Always that inevitable rejection. But this wasn't a breakup, they'd have to have been dating for that.

"For now, at least," tacked on, rushed words, and maybe it was because Prompto hadn't been able to entirely hide the reaction on his face. "The four of us will be in close quarters while we travel and I would like to avoid any... awkwardness that might arise from the situation. There shouldn't be any, ah, distractions, while we've been entrusted to keep Noctis safe, and I..."

Prompto raised a hand, cutting him off, "Dude, I totally get it. Absolutely not gonna be a problem. I told you before, just say the word and we can stop, so we'll stop. It's probably the smart thing to do right now, anyway."

"We can see what happens. Once we get Noct to Altissia."

Altissia, when Noct was married and had better more important things to do that hang around with a pleb, when Ignis and Gladio would have their hands full with their duties, to keep Noctis and his new wife safe, to usher him through his Royal obligations. He always knew this was where things were headed in the end, didn't he. 

He shrugged, "Don't worry about it man. We're still friends, right?"

"Of course." Except Ignis couldn't maintain eye contact for long after he said it.

Just friends. Always, just friends.

The phone started buzzing again and Ignis said, "Excuse me, I have to take this." All but lunging at the opportunity to end the conversation, quick to turn his attention from Prompto, barley looking up when Prompto waved goodbye.

Not a problem. Couldn't let things be awkward. Besides, they were still friends.

All the way out the building, the sound of his footsteps echoing words in his mind.

Just friends, just friends, just friends. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Hammerhead**

 

He wasn't doing it on purpose.

At least, not knowingly. He didn't think so.

Or at least that's what he told himself, and no one accused him otherwise. Why would they? Prompto could be a convincing actor, he'd had enough practice in his life. And Cindy was cute. It never took much to lead others to the wrong assumptions with the right pieces set in place.

Leide was hot and dry, sun filling up the blinding sky and making everything hard to look at, the shine on cars, the bleached cement that made up the parking lot. Takka gave them work, Cindy requested a delivery, and Ignis took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Everything was too bright and made his eyes hurt so Prompto didn't look.

"I'll visit her in Hammerhead..." 

Always easy to pretend.  

Gladio, and all his casual ego, frequent implications of all of his conquests gave Prompto the predictable amount of shit, rolling his eyes with good natured mocking, "Listen to this guy."

Noctis too, and all the constant back and forth between him and Prompto, quick to join in on the fun when he wasn't the target. "He actually thinks he has a chance," he said, laughing with Gladio and acting like he hadn't just turned 19 shades of red as soon as Gladio brought up him and Lady Lunafreya. And then Ignis laughed too.

Nothing different from any of the rest of them. Nothing jealous, nothing curious. Nothing but the same way he laughed at all the rest of their antics. Nothing but friends ripping on friends for a laugh because that's what friends did. 

Prompto could laugh with the best of them. He'd laugh along too, maybe play up some indignation and swear they were all assholes, and of _course_ he had a chance.

But you couldn't make someone want you, no matter how much you wanted them, like you couldn't expect someone to seek you out, put forth all the effort when you resolutely wouldn't reach out first. Like making them take the first step would prove something. Like you needed the proof of the chase. Like you were a conceded asshole that couldn't step up, had to close yourself off, couldn't risk that chance of rejection, but craving the attention all the same. You couldn't make someone come to you while you stood around and did nothing but want it and refused to prove anything yourself. You couldn't make somebody love you. 

And he told himself he didn't care. With every overt gesture, every over the top proclamation of infatuation, every vocalized daydream of a life spent loving Cindy, that only earned him a jeering from the others and hardly a care from Ignis. Not more than a flitting remark aimed vaguely in his direction and attention dropped as soon as the next topic came up. He didn't care; with every moment he was ignored, ever time he realized he might as well not have been there.

He didn't care. 

He didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't care, he didn't care.

 

 

 

**February**

 

It was the worst month.

At least Prompto thought so, if he was giving his honest opinion. No more Holiday Solstice cheer or anticipation, the novelty of falling snow entirely worn off until it was nothing but a nuisance, dirty slush and slippery streets, and endless grey skies finally taking their toll on his mood. And a minimum of another two months of it until the weather started to break with nothing to look forward to in the mean time. It would make Prompto foul, if he allowed it. If he didn't ever let anyone else see him filled with nothing but boundless cheer.

Ignis was driving him home. 

It wasn't anything new, though it'd taken Prompto long enough to get used to it. For the longest time being alone with Ignis, without Noctis as a buffer between them brought him jittery anxiety and the fear of saying something wrong and looking stupid. Ignis wasn't stupid. He didn't want Ignis thinking he was stupid. 

But he'd gotten used to it- he'd had to. It was inevitable with how much time him and Noctis had started spending together since they first became friends, and Ignis was so often there too. And Gladio, later on when they'd all starting hanging out and getting close. But Gladio didn't ever cook for him, or offer to give him rides home. Rides that weren't actually much of an offer when he was expected to say yes. 

That was alright though. So many things about Noct's life had rubbed off on him, and having Ignis as the occasional chauffeur was the least of it. On cold and grey days like today, Prompto couldn't say he'd rather be taking the train. And so much of that awkwardness had faded that they could sit in comfortable silence, even if there was a constant thrumming in the undercurrent, Prompto thinking about what it'd be like if they were more.

"... Prompto?"

"Hmm?" Prompto looked up from the knobs he'd been messing with, the intensity of his heated seat and the vents over the glove box, trying to get just the right shade of warm. He didn't really think that Ignis sounded hesitant, probably because he never knew what that sounded like in the first place. 

"I was wondering..." the car came to a rolling stop while Ignis was waiting to make a right turn, "about... Well I was wondering about what you asked me. On New Year's." 

"Oh."

The little word that left him, quiet in the car and echoing back in his head as it hung in the air, over and over and over, _oh, oh, oh, oh_.

"I was wondering if... if you were serious." Now Prompto could hear it, the uncertainty that was only just barely there in Ignis's voice, but he couldn't read why. Presumably because if Promtpo admitted the answer was yes, Ignis would sever any friendship and make things weird when they were both around Noct. It had been too much to hope that Ignis had forgotten about it when Ignis never forgot anything else. He didn't think he'd been breaking some kind of secret Royal decree by propositioning the Prince's retainer, but rules and regulations didn't much matter if he'd made Ignis uncomfortable anyway. And if Prompto had learned anything about being around Royalty it was all about invisible boundaries and what you couldn't and shouldn't do. The boundaries between him and Ignis were clear.

"Why?" Prompto asked. Because he wanted to put off the inevitable, because he was a glutton for punishment. He'd need to hear Ignis say it himself before he could laugh it off and say, _of course not_ , and _sorry I was pretty drunk, huh?_ and then go live alone with his mortification in peace. 

"Because I was..." he heard the leather-on-leather noise of Ignis adjusting his gloved grip on the steering wheel, "I was going to ask if it was still an open invitation." 

If Prompto had it in him to gape, he would, but he was caught so off guard he couldn't even manage that, and Ignis just kept speaking.

"If I've misspoken please say so. And if it was the influence of alcohol that had you make the offer at the time, you're under no obligation to me to follow through now. But I thought I would ask. If you're still interested." 

"Oh. _Oh_. Yeah. I mean, _yes_ ," Prompto wouldn't give himself the chance to think that this was all a dream, a hallucination, that it wasn't actually happening. "Yes. The, uh, offer is still out there." 

Again it echoed, pumping like his heartbeat, _yes, yes, yes, yes_. Ignis took the right turn and said he had some free time now, if Prompto wanted...

Yes, Prompto wanted.

Ignis lived in a high rise apartment in a part of town that was probably permanently out of Prompto's pay grade. He hadn't ever been there before, not when Noct was always the center of attention between them all, and there was no reason to meet anywhere but his place. They didn't talk. As Ignis parked the car, as they faced the bitter wind and made their way inside, up an elevator and down a quiet hall. They didn't talk, while they slid off their shoes and jackets and Ignis flipped on a light. It was all more modest than what Prompto was expecting, as nice as everything was. More plain too, like Ignis didn't really live there, just came home to sleep, which... maybe wasn't entirely too far off the mark. 

Sleep.

Ignis led him to the bedroom, dim with blinds half-drawn and if Prompto had been floating in a dream on the way coming here then he was at risk of crashing down.

Should they kiss?

Technically they'd done it before, hadn't they? But it wasn't like they were dating and it wasn't like they were a couple and Prompto didn't know what Ignis did or didn't want. Or what he wanted to do. It wasn't like Prompto had any time to prepare beforehand, mentally or otherwise. But Ignis had invited him, that was something to remember, so before Prompto could lose his nerve or let his brain catch up with his hands he went to Ignis and pulled him down for a kiss.

It was like he remembered, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips, that memory that Prompto had replayed over and over since the first time in secret moments, late and night and by himself. But they weren't dating. He pushed Ignis back until his legs hit the bed, then he put enough pressure on his shoulders for Ignis to get the idea and sit down. Prompto let him break the kiss in the process. That wasn't what they were here for. He wouldn't play the role of romantic. 

He got on his knees. 

Ignis opened his legs to let him in, staring down at him while Prompto looked up and bit his lip while his hands went to Ignis's belt. Sexy, right? That kind of shit was supposed to be sexy? For the most part Prompto felt like he wouldn't know how to make himself sexy if someone had a gun to his head but for Ignis, and in that moment, he was more than willing to give it a shot. It'd be worth it to make Ignis want him. And if it only looked stupid, he'd make Ignis forget about that soon enough.

His fingers worked fast so that if they were shaking, neither of them would be able to see. The pop of a button and the sound of a zipper and with a tug on his pants and Ignis adjusting his hips to help, Prompto was free to tug the band of his boxer briefs down enough to pull his cock out. 

He'd pictured this before, even if it always happened in a different way. He pictured what he thought Iggy would look like and in his head it was always perfect. Looking at Ignis now, his long cock just getting hard as Prompto stroked it, the feeling of his skin, maybe he hadn't be so far off the mark. 

And because he'd imagined it so many times, it was easy, almost second nature, to bring his head forward and take that nearly-perfect cock in his mouth. Ignis sighed when he did, balled his hands up at his sides, clutching at the bedspread. Prompto took his time. Not settling into a rhythm just yet, but running his tongue over everything, and seeing how far down Ignis would fit. 

He pulled off, just for a second, to take a full breath and lick his lips. His own arousal was secondary, painful as it was wanting attention and still trapped in his jeans. For now he'd settle with making it good for Ignis. Because he'd given blow jobs before, even if he wasn't terribly experienced, and he thought that, if it was good, then it was how Ignis would think of him. He'd be remembered for being good. 

He kept one hand wrapped around the based and took Ignis back in his mouth, ready now to work in earnest at getting Ignis off. Hand and mouth, working in time, and cheeks hollowed as he sucked. Ignis was moaning, breathing a little heavier now, but that was good because he was too. 

He heard it in Ignis's voice before Ignis said his name to warn him. The way he started sounding just a little bit desperate, a little bit to close to the edge, hips moving just a little, like he couldn't quite help himself, and then Ignis was coming in his mouth. 

Prompto kept stroking with his hand, little movements to coax him through, but stopped bobbing his head while he swallowed everything down. He made sure Ignis was finished, then gentle and slow, dragged his lips back up the length of him, letting them pucker around the tip before letting Ignis slip out of his mouth. 

It would have been nice to sit there and enjoy it. That's what Prompto would have wanted when he looked up at Ignis in all of his post-orgasmic bliss, just a tiny bit sweaty and a little big flushed. Prompto would have kissed him again, if he'd gotten what we wanted. But almost as soon as Ignis was finished he bid Prompto to his feet, hips place just right in front of Ignis's face while he freed Prompto's erection. He swore, even if he couldn't really see, that Ignis might have smirked before he took the entirety of Prompto's cock into his mouth. 

" _Gods_ , Ignis," he hadn't really meant to speak, but the pleasure of it caught him off guard after the painful sweet ache of anticipation. Sucking Ignis off was good. But this, being enveloped in that warm, wet, heat was better. _But_ -

Did Ignis think he was small? He hadn't been self conscious about his own dick since the first time he had to shower in the public locker rooms, way back in high school. Porn wasn't exactly accurate to go by, and he thought he was pretty average, but the way Ignis was working him, sucking him all the way down without gagging, was he used to bigger dicks? Would he rather have someone bigger? And how the hell had Ignis learned to suck cock like that anyway, when as far as Prompto knew he never had any boyfriends and with how busy Ignis was, Prompto never really got the impression that he got out much. But virgins didn't deep throat cock like amateur porn stars. Had he given a lot of blow jobs? Who else had he sucked off?

No- he couldn't spend this experience getting lost in his head and if he wasted the entire time Ignis got him off thinking about the other dicks he might have sucked, Prompto would want to kill himself for it later. So he fell back into the sensation of it, found himself staring at the side of Ignis's neck, then the curve of his ear. He exploited Prompto's sensitivities and made him give a weak cry, half bitten back, embarrassed. Because otherwise the room was so quiet. So quiet all he could hear was the sounds of Ignis sucking, a sound that would be ringing in his ears for a long time to come. 

He wanted to lean forward, put his weight on Ignis's shoulders, feeling like his knees just might give out as he started getting close. But Prompto was afraid to touch him. Just in case he'd take that as a sign to stop. 

When Prompto came, Ignis swallowed it all, just like Prompto had swallowed him. He still wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming. He looked down at Ignis, sitting on the edge of the bed and primly wiping off his mouth, and thinking _Ignis Scientia just swallowed my come_.

Definitely a dream.

They both straightened their clothes and they left the apartment without saying much, then Ignis drove him home.

 

 

 

 

  **Lestallum**

 

 

Some days were best limped through. Some days were best spent acknowledging the misery, the one you'd tried so hard to hide. Some days you couldn't know peace. 

Prompto knew those days well, knew them well enough to greet them like an old friend. And he had a lifetime's practice of pretending that everything was alright and putting on his happy mask. But this was different. Because it wasn't just him, it was their homes destroyed and families gone. Maybe he could pretend for himself until things felt alright again, but it was different when someone you cared about was miserable and you didn't know how to fix it..

Insomnia was gone.

Noctis was an open wound, and picking at it would only tear it open and make it worse. His conversations with the Marshal proved it, in case Prompto hadn’t already known for himself. There was a hostility there he couldn’t understand and nothing he could ever hope to talk about. It was funny, how him and Noct could both bottle things up until they burst. The difference was that Noct didn’t care that it showed when it made him moody.

They passed a chocobo post on the way to Lestallum. And Prompto, with all of the exuberance he could muster, made a point of saying how much they should stop and see it.

Because he’d seen how Noctis was with animals, how much he liked them even if he never did really say, and Noctis needed cheering up. Even if it was the temporary sort.

Gladio snapped at him for suggesting it, and what he didn’t say back was that Iris was safe and Lestallum wasn’t going anywhere. Gladio had lost people too, for all his stiff upper lip and soldier on attitude. Iris was his saving grace, something none of the others had. Prompto would play the fool and take Gladio's hostility for the chance to make Noctis feel better, and maybe ease some of the tension and spread some peace instead of the tension that was thrumming between them, all that hurt and anxiety that they had nowhere to throw except at each other. 

And _yes_ maybe Prompto had wanted to make himself feel better too. So shoot him for it.

It was worth it to see Noct feeding chocobos and looking a fraction less miserable than he had in days.

It was worth it to see Ignis, stress lines in his forehead smooth out, scratching a chocobo under his chin and speaking soft and soothing words when he thought no one was looking. Ignis... Ignis was Ignis. And he took care of Noct and looked after everything with practicality and efficiency and never said a word about himself. But he'd lost his old life too.

Lestallum heat was stifling, but Iris was a breath of fresh air. Gladio finally stopped looking like he was about to implode and things finally started feeling like they were diffusing. Iris showed them to the Leville and then, eyes shining, asked to show Noctis around, infatuated in the sweet and charming sort of way that teen girls only seemed capable of. Noctis agreed, and that was another win, something else to take his mind off things, to remind him of what they were fighting for. Ignis would get them settled into their rooms in the mean time. Two rooms- extra space to let them decompress. It felt needed after all they'd been through.

Gladio took a key from Ignis, looking drained, the pressure of worrying over Iris finally pouring out of him. So Prompto let him be and followed Ignis into the second room.

Somewhere along the line, in all the months leading up to this, being alone with Ignis had become a dangerous thing. 

Prompto didn't see it; refused to see it. What he saw was Ignis's back as he slumped his shoulders took off his gloves to rub his eyes. What he saw was the tired look on his face, he wasn't the only one drained. 

What he saw was what he thought was someone that needed comfort. Like he needed comfort. Because he'd had parents and a home too, even if it was usually an _empty_ house that didn't so much feel like _home_. But he'd lost them all the same. Like Ignis had lost too. Was there something wrong in wanting comfort? They didn't have to talk about it, they could just...

"Hey," Prompto said, catching Ignis by his elbow, a gentle little touch that kept the fabric of Ignis's shirt between them. "You alright?"

He could have imagined that the look Ignis gave him was grateful- soft. Prompto always liked to see things that weren't there.

"I'm fine Prompto, thank you," he said, and those shoulders were straight again, back to putting the Royal Advisor on display. "Just a bit tired is all, the drive here was longer than I had anticipated."

"Right..." Prompto said, chewing on his lip, because Ignis must have known that wasn't what he was asking. "Been a hell of a couple of days, y'know?" His hand was still on Ignis's arm, and they were standing so close, so close it was easy to just lean in to just...

Prompto's mouth met his, and it gave him that same jolt in his stomach that he felt every single time, no matter how many times it happened, no matter how many times he chided himself for it, for that useless little spark of hope he felt when Ignis softened under him. 

But still, Prompto let himself hope. Because he never learned and because, just for a moment, things felt like they fell into place. It felt like Ignis giving in to him, accepting the kiss, a mirror, looking for comfort, letting his lips part when Prompto beckoned him to. It could have been a turning point, it could have finally been the start of something between them. Then Prompto's hands went for Ignis's belt. 

He felt Ignis stiffen before he drew back and that was the first plummet in his stomach, another sting of rejection and something he had no right to feel.

"Prompto I don't... I don't know if it's the best time for this."

That little bit of pity in his voice, like Ignis didn't want to turn him away or let him down, that only made it worse. Ignis caring only ever made it worse.

"Sorry," he said, flushed with embarrassment and hoping his voice didn't sound like it was shaking. Like he was trying not to cry because just for a little bit, he'd wanted to pretend. He'd wanted to make himself feel better. "Sorry I just... thought you might be up for blowing off some steam. But you're right. No tomfoolery on the road, right?" If his laugh sounded choked and fake it's because it was, made worse by the fact that Ignis was looking at him like he felt bad about saying no. Ignis couldn't give him what he wanted, and still he'd feel bad about it. Ignis was good, and with a good heart. It was one of the many reason why he-

"I'm gonna take a shower, it's hot as _balls_ here, man," Prompto said, his excuse to hide in the bathroom, and hide from all those pitying looks. He locked himself behind a closed door before Ignis could say anything else.

They had an agreement. He didn't know what he expected, he didn't know why he was acting surprised and hurt, but he could tell himself he didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

 


End file.
